


Schmidt and the Five Golden Rings of Doom

by tommygirl



Category: New Girl
Genre: Gen, Mayans & the end of the world, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/pseuds/tommygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schmidt has watched a lot of History Channel and he knows all about the Mayans and the end of the world.  He just wants to have a nice roommates-only party before the world ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Schmidt and the Five Golden Rings of Doom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sharksdontsleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharksdontsleep/gifts).



**_1\. Schmidt's brilliant idea_ **

It had started when the new neighbors had moved in down the hall. He was reminded of how he used to make a more conscientious effort to spend time with his roommates. Truth of the matter was that since the broken penis, the break up with Cece and her getting a new dorky boyfriend, he had spent more time on himself and had neglected his roommates. His roommates were important to him, and they were floundering without him. His new neighbors, lazy layabouts that they were, served as a reminder to Schmidt of how roommates could be, how they could spend time together and have fun and mock others without shame, sometimes right to their faces. 

Schmidt knew something had to happen. He had been surfing the net and reading blogs on the local scenes to try and find something the group could do, hopefully something that would squelch Nick's need to complain and Jess' love of putting ribbons on things. He was almost sold on a roller skating party, when the Discovery Channel's latest marathon of we're-all-gonna-die specials started.

After seven straight hours of listening to all the horrible ways he was doomed to die, Schmidt knew what had to happen. Not only did he need to bury a stockpile of supplies in the woods, but he was going to throw the best Mayans are Killing Us All party that was ever thought up. It would be epic and only open to roommates (take that twenty-year-old hipsters who thought they were too good for him).

First, he had to get Jess on board. She was always the easiest roommate to sway and at the very mention of the word bonding, she tended to get misty and would babble about how much she loved them all.

He approached her after his morning detox while she sat at the bar eating. He poured himself a cup of coffee and stared at her as she hummed to herself and flipped through the pages of a magazine. "Hi Jess."

"Hi."

"I need your help."

"No, Schmidt. I told you, I do not want to help you wax your chest."

"Your loss. These pecs are amaze-balls, baby, but that's not what I need help with."

"Amaze-balls?"

"Focus Jess. I have a plan and I need your help."

She closed her magazine and stared at Schmidt expectantly. He grinned and said, "I think we all need to bond."

"That would be so much fun," Jess said. "We could go apple picking or..."

"...or we could do something not lame and have a kick-ass roommates-only party."

"Does four even qualify as a party?"

"I don't have time for semantics, Jess. It's December 2012. The countdown to the end is on and I think it would be great if we all spent some quality best friends and roommates time together."

"I think it's sweet that you want to spend more time with us--"

"-It's not sweet. It's stellar and unmissable."

"I don't think that's a word, Schmidt."

"I bought wine and the best Gouda cheese on the west coast. Add that to the kick ass meal I'm gonna cook up and surely... _surely_...Webster's dictionary would rethink its abhorrent disrespect for my new word."

"But the end of the world is so depressing."

"So we take it back. Take the depression out of the night and make it fun." Schmidt knew he was wearing her down. Jess was easy enough to get to go along with him most of the time, as she didn't like to hurt anyone's feeling, but he needed her excited enough to get Nick and Winston on board. And those two had no issue with destroying pieces of Schmidt's soul.

"Please Jess," he said, doing his best pity-me-poor-puppy-face expression. He knew it needed some work, so he reached across the counter and grabbed her hand. He rubbed his thumb over the top as she attempted to pry free. He gave her hand another squeeze because he was not going to surrender, not until she agreed to help him. He said, "For me."

Jess pushed her granola around in front of her - generic, of course, and Schmidt was going to have to introduce her to Trader Joe's to keep such monstrosities out of his house in the future - with her free hand, having resigned herself to Schmidt's grip on her other one. She let out a loud, suffering sigh and said with a bad, indistinguishable accent, "I'm always up for a party, baby. Bring it, mofo!"

She put down her food and started to gesture wildly, arms waving all over in a way that left Schmidt to assume she was dancing. He tried to grab a hold of her flailing arm and said, "No. Bad."

"Not that kind of party?"

"Never that kind of party! Not even if it's a room full of blind, deaf weirdos. And that's not how I plan to spend my last night on Earth."

"What are you talking about? Catching a shuttle to Mars or something?" Jess asked with a laugh.

Schmidt shook his head - he would dedicate more time to fixing her in the future, if they survived - and said, "It's December 21st, Jess. The Mayan calendar ends and we're all doomed. Maybe. It could also end up like any other day with Winston using all the hot water and Nick complaining at the news like he's my grandpa."

"The world isn't going to end."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Schmidt, you sound ridiculous."

Schmidt crossed his arms and asked, "And when did you become an expert on all things Mayan?"

"I told you to stop watching those Doomsday Prepper shows. Last time you watched a marathon you took my cupcakes and tried to dehydrate them and then bought a gun magazine and made perverted comments about pieces and power."

Schmidt shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"That's what yer mom said," Jess replied. 

He rolled his eyes as she giggled and he said, "I realize that the world ending doesn't matter to most of you-"

"-It's not going to end."

"But if it does, I want to be having a lovely dinner with my friends rather than cowering in a corner clutching a teddy bear and crying out 'why has god forsaken me?' thank you very much." He could tell Jess was imagining the scenario and shared his disgust at the idea and he knew she was on board. And no matter what the guys tried to say, none of them could ever refuse her and her insanity, so his party would be on. "I need you to make sure Nick and Winston show up."

"I still don't understand why I have to ask them."

"Because they expect wacky roommate shenanigans from you."

"You're trying to pin this party idea on me, aren't you?"

"That makes me sound diabolical and it's really just about making sure the 'Mayans Rock, Baby' roommates only party happens. Nick and Winston will give in if you bat your baby blues and do your babble singing to convince them."

"Fine, but the night better not end with you revealing an arsenal and offing us one-by-one," Jess replied, taking another bite of what she passed off for breakfast. She shoveled a bite into her mouth and said, "I'll even help with decorating. I can pick up some construction paper and glitter--"

"There is no glitter in a Mayan apocalypse, Jess."

"I can bake cookies in the shape of coffins and skulls."

"Fine. Whatever. I can work cookies into the evening's menu."

Jess laughed, at what Schmidt didn't know, but he usually didn't with Jess. She started dancing in her seat as she stirred her spoon around the bowl and sang out, " _Making cookies for the end of the world...that's what I'll be doing..._ "

"I've got to go."

"Schmidt."

"No, really, I've got to research ancient Mayan dinner choices - Mel Gibson didn't mention that once in _Apocalypto_ \- and, you're making me sick with that faux granola topped in what looks like rice pudding."

"It's milk."

Schmidt grimaced and waved at her, "Oh, the horrors."

**_2\. it's the end of the world as we know it and Schmidt feels fine..._ **

Nick stretched out in his chair, took another swig of his beer, and plopped down his napkin. "I have to say Schmidt, dinner was actually nice. I didn't even mind the weird wooden rings on the plates."

"Those were napkin rings, you uncultured swine," Schmidt replied.

"They weren't on the napkins."

"Because someone," Schmidt paused to glare accusingly at Winston, "said they could handle a simple task and then appeared to develop a sudden case of narcolepsy." Schmidt swatted at Nick's hand where he had taken to wearing the napkin ring and said, "And for god's sake, you don't wear a napkin ring."

"I thought we had something special, Schmidt," Nick said, feigning tears and likely sullying Schmidt's fine linens.

"Don't pay attention to Nick. You know he doesn't feel right inside if he's not grumpy about something," Jess replied. She patted Schmidt's hand and stuck her tongue out at Nick. 

Nick rolled his eyes and said, "Is that really how you want me to remember you after the end of the world?"

Before Jess could respond and it turned into the Nick-and-Jess-will-they-or-won't-they show, Schmidt motioned to couch and said, "Why don't we settle in for the remainder of the evening and I'll serve the final course of liqueurs and cookies."

"You did good, Schmidt," Nick replied.

Schmidt grinned and glanced at Winston. Winston dropped the roll in his hand and said, "I'm both relieved and frightened that I'm having a good time."

"I especially like the ode to Mount Vesuvius on the coffee table," Jess said, taking a sip of her tea and standing up. She moved toward the couch and waved in the general area of the model-sized volcano spewing smoke and ash. "It's very disastrous."

"Thank you, Jess. The problem I kept running into was that the Mayans never specified the way things would end."

"I'm pretty sure they didn't specify that the world would end at all," Nick countered.

Schmidt ignored him as he walked over to the couch and circled the volcano. "To be honest, a super volcano eruption is not something I want to experience, but it's really hard to find realistic end of the world disaster decorations."

"I think it's great! I can go grab one of my old Barbie dolls and we can sacrifice her to the gods."

Winston laughed. "That could be fun."

"Why do you still have Barbies, Jess?" Nick asked.

"Says the man with GI Joe's in his closet," Winston commented.

Jess laughed and Nick glared from Winston to Jess. Before this got out of hand, Schmidt cleared his throat - loudly - and said, "I have the evening planned to the minute and I'm afraid there's no time for Mattel-themed sacrifices."

"Schmidt, I was hoping we could just watch a movie."

"Oh, we're going to watch a movie...the most awesome movie in the world," he said. He turned the television on and while Winston and Nick took their usual seats on the sofa, Schmidt pushed over the bar cart he rented and handed out four shot glasses. He filled them each with a shot of whiskey and left the bottle on the table as he took his seat. He said, "We're going to watch _The Twelve Disasters of Christmas_ that was on SyFy and drink heavily."

"I can get behind the drinking heavily, but can't we pick a better movie?"

"There is no such thing as a bad disaster movie, Nick. There are just levels of over-the-top insanity that make it all worthwhile, especially while inebriated," Schmidt replied.

"You did see _Twister_ in the theater six times," Winston said.

Nick looked like he wanted to respond, but Jess pounded the sofa cushions with her fists and said, "I'll give it a go, but I have to warn you that if we watch this, I will sing the Christmas song. Or at least the five golden rings line. I usually don't remember the rest, even when I haven't had a few glasses of wine, but that five golden rings line is just always there. Even when I'm singing music from Wicked."

"Another reason it's good we'll be inebriated," Nick said picking up his shot glass and downing it. Schmidt thought about complaining, but decided to start the movie and pour another shot for Nick. 

The group watched the movie in silence at first, snacking on the cookies and drinking copious amounts of liquor. As the disasters started to unfold on the screen and they all fell into that hazy goofy drunk fog, they took turns shouting things at the screen while Jess decided to do an interpretive dance around them.

"It's so sparkly and spinny and stuff in here. It's like the end of the world is liberating... _five golden rings_..." she sang the last bit before reaching out for the arm of the sofa. She asked, "How many shots did I have again?"

"Too many," Nick replied. He grabbed Jess' old quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over his head and said, "I'll be safe from the ice mist in here."

"Yeah, _she's_ the one who had too much to drink," Winston commented.

"Would someone get her to stop dancing? She's scarier than the end of the world when she dances like that," Nick replied. He pulled her down next to him and Jess giggled as she squirmed free and fell face-first into her seat between Winston and Schmidt. 

Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around their necks. "I love you guys. You're never what I expected for my life, like ever, but I care about all of you and if the world ends, I'm glad I'll be with you."

"I'm leaving your asses behind at the first sign of giant ice spears of doom falling from the sky," Winston replied.

"It's not going to happen like that. It's going to be the polar _Axle…askies…ax-sees…axis_ thingies shifting and we will all fall off the planet," Nick replied.

"Don't be an idiot, Nick. The continents are going to shift and we're all going to drown in water or lava," Schmidt said. He covered his eyes and lamented, "And there was so much I still wanted to do with my life. Now that my penis isn't broken I was hoping to use it again."

"Not tonight, my friend. I'm not that drunk," Nick replied.

Jess giggled and said, "And he'll never call after."

"All of you are wrong," Winston stated with a dramatic sigh. He stood up, wobbled a bit and sat back down. He pointed and said, "It's gonna be like that _Day After Tomorrow_ movie and we're all going to freeze to death. Slowly. Horribly. And just when we think things can't get worse, scary ass wolves are going to chase us around our apartment."

"Way to be a downer, Winston," Jess replied as she shoved a cookie in her mouth. It seemed to sap her of all of her energy as she fell back on the couch like a rag doll and started snoring. Normally, Schmidt would have been a little sickened by the drool pooling with the cookie crumbs in the corner of her mouth, but he was drunk and the world was likely ending and sometimes she was adorable.

He ripped the blanket from Nick's head - still not sure why it was there in the first place - and draped it over Jess carefully. He _shhh'd_ loudly at his roommates and said, "Who wants to watch 2012?"

"Can anyone ever be drunk enough to enjoy that movie?" Winston asked.

"No, but it's not like we've got anything better to do," Nick replied.

Schmidt tossed the DVD to Nick, who was oddly graceful in his inebriated state, and rested his head against Jess's shoulder. She had started to snore and he wondered aloud, "Do you think she dreams of butterflies and rainbows?"

He had expected a snarky reply or to be told to shut up. When he glanced at his friends, both Nick and Winston were passed out. Schmidt tried to stand up to shake them awake and chide them for being so lame, but it was no use. They were both done for the night. 

Somewhere between the start of the room spinning and fogging up around him and another brilliant idea to paint Nick's face, Schmidt fell to the ground and couldn't get back up. He momentarily thought that he was going to wake up with an ugly bruise, but mostly, he cursed himself for using brandy cordials as a chaser to whiskey.

**_3\. Armageddon by robot is no one's idea of a good time_ **

Schmidt groaned at the loud sounds. He wasn't sure how he had gotten into bed after last night, but he felt like hell and he was pretty sure his friends should have been feeling just as bad. Even so...Schmidt had talked to Nick and Winston numerous times about playing Halo loudly when he was attempting to sleep. Skin like his didn't just rejuvenate itself without a good night's sleep and plenty of exfoliating. He mumbled his best "please stop" and tried to fall back to sleep despite the noise when the room began to shake. 

He watched in horror as his collection of apothecary jars fell to the ground, breaking into shards on the floor, and found himself unable to move. It wasn't until Nick was grabbing him by his arm and complaining that he was a suicidal jackass that Schmidt managed to completely wake up to what was happening. Nick pushed him into the living room where Winston and Jess were standing wide-eyed and freaked out.

"We need to get under a table or something," Nick said, running a hand over his face like it would wake him up.

"That's not gonna help," Schmidt replied. 

"My head is killing me, Schmidt, so if you have a better idea, now would be the time to share," Nick said.

Schmidt pulled the others over to the window and pointed to the flashes of light hitting the ground for what looked like miles. He motioned from the window to his roommates as he said, "I told you the world was gonna end, but you refused to believe me. Don't y'all feel silly now?"

"Schmidt, be serious. It's an earthquake."

As if on cue, the shaking got worse and a series of loud noises like small bombs echoed into the air, causing Schmidt's chest to thump-thump-thump. Schmidt gave his best I-told-you-so look to Nick, but his eyes were focused on the window. So were Winston's and Jess' and when Schmidt followed their line of vision, he shrieked, "What the fuck is that? The Mayans never mentioned Transformers!"

"It's like an over-sized robot with claws. I don't recall Optimus Prime having claws for hands," Jess said.

As if hearing them, a large robotic fist came crashing through Schmidt's room and grabbed a hold of all four of them in one swoop. Schmidt prayed to every god he had ever learned about and tried not to pee all over himself. He kept telling himself this was a nightmare, a very bad dream, but no matter how many times he pinched himself or tried to wake up, he found himself in the same place - the firm grip of a giant robot.

Around them flashes of red laser lights illuminated the sky and most of their neighborhood was rubble around them. Schmidt could hear terrified screams over the loud thrum of machinery that filled the air.

"Is everyone okay?" Nick asked.

"Do we look okay, Nick?" Schmidt replied.

"You know what I mean, Schmidt."

"We're about to be robot food and I'm wearing knock off pajama pants. This is not how I pictured the end."

Jess whimpered and Nick glared at Schmidt as he wrapped his arms around her. He whispered something in her ear and kept his attention on her. Schmidt glanced at Winston for some sort of affirmation or denial about their upcoming demise, but Winston looked like an extra in that Robin Williams movie about coma patients.

Their survival was in Schmidt's hands and he had to do something. He had just worked up the courage to try to pry free of the robot's grasp, when there was another series of loud bomb-like sounds coming toward them. The air seemed to whip up around them and when Schmidt glanced into the horizon, there was another robot moving at light speed right for them with no intention of stopping. As the robots crashed against one another, the grip holding them mid-air was gone and Schmidt and the others were falling to the ground. Schmidt was pretty sure that this was not on his approved list of ways to die. 

Schmidt wasn't sure what to expect, but splashing into thick goo that was enough to both break his fall and nearly kill him with the smell was a bit of a surprise. As soon as he had his footing he glanced around for his friends. He saw Jess first and tried to smile reassuringly, but he was pretty sure he freaked her out because she started to cry.

Nick seemed to appear out of nowhere, dragging a catatonic Winston with him. "Why do you always make the pretty girls cry, Schmidt?"

That was it. The last straw. Schmidt cursed under his breath and hollered, "God damn, Mayans. They never mentioned robot wars. _No one_ ever mentioned robot wars in all the hours of television programming I watched and I would remember learning about robot excrement. This is disgusting!" 

Schmidt kicked at invisible junk and added, "Please tell me that one of you decided we should all experiment with weird mushrooms and this is a horrible manifestation of my fears that I can talk about in therapy next week."

"Shut up, Schmidt," Nick replied. He slapped Winston on the face, who just sat there, covered in robot shit, with a blank face. 

"I can't. We were attacked by a giant robot. Who was then attacked by another giant robot. What the hell is happening?"

Nick slapped Winston one more time before doing the same to Schmidt. Nick hollered, "You need to hold it together. Have some dignity."

"Easy for you to say, your whole shtick is being miserable and embracing entropy. I'm not like you, Nick. I'm too young and pretty to die."

"You're not going to die unless I finally cave and strangle you," Nick replied. His voice softened for a minute and he said, "Jess? You still with me?"

She nodded and tried to smile at him. Her eyes flitted to Schmidt as Nick focused back on Winston's unresponsive state and she said, "We'll be okay, Schmidt. We'll figure this out, and maybe it will be like that Hugh Jackman movie where the robots are adorable and dance with kids."

"Really Jess? Really? Did that look like the Iron Giant when we were being pulled through a wall?" Schmidt heard his voice rising into a panic.

Nick stopped shaking Winston and turned his attention to Schmidt. He said, "Don't yell at her. It won't solve anything."

"Excuse me for not adhering to the dos and don'ts of appropriate behavior in the apocalypse."

Nick rolled his eyes and asked, "How I am the one holding it together?"

"I always knew you were a natural born leader, Nick," Jess said, clutching her robe like it was a life vest. "I'm sorry it took the end of the world for you to see that."

"Thanks Jess," Nick replied, wrapping his arm around her.

She hugged Nick to her and Schmidt glared at them. "Are the two of you really going to do this now? Over a year you dance around one another and now, in the middle of the end of the world, you decide to figure it out? Oy vey!"

"Did he just say 'Oy vey'?" Nick asked. Schmidt glared at him with all the fury he could muster, but the panic was taking over. He couldn't breathe and darkness blurred at the edges. He could hear Nick and Jess, but it was like they were calling to him from far away and suddenly Schmidt couldn't keep his eyes open.

What a horrible way to go.

**_4\. there's no place like home and the power of a good loofa_ **

"Schmidt! Wake up."

Schmidt swung his arms out in a defensive posture, ready to fight, only to see three pairs of eyes hovering over him. He tried to get his bearings. Hadn't they been swimming in robot dung a few seconds ago? And when had Winston regained his senses?

"Winston, you're okay."

Winston glanced at him with a part concerned and part amused look. "I'm fine. What about you?"

"What about me? Where are we?"

"Our apartment, Schmidt. Where else would we be?" Nick asked, waving his hand in front of Schmidt's face. He asked, "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up."

"You're making a fist," Schmidt replied. His eyes traveled around the immediate area. He let out a sigh of relief as the feeling of home and safety overwhelmed him. It was only after a few deep breathes that he asked, "Why am I on the floor?"

"We were wondering the same thing."

"I remember Jess passed out and then we were still drinking and then it was Armageddon."

"I think you had too much to drink, buddy," Nick said.

Jess extended her hand and said, "C'mon Schmidt. Let's get you cleaned up and then you can sleep in an actual bed."

"My room wasn't destroyed during the robot wars?"

"Much later when my head isn't pounding, I'm going to require an explanation," Winston said.

"Oh thank God. My clothes! They're still there! And look..." Schmidt ran over to the window and took in the world around him, "...the wall and window are still here. No broken glass and crumbling walls, which is good because let me tell you, end of the world or not, I knew we would never get our deposit back after that mess."

Schmidt hadn't realized Jess had moved next to him, watching him with a wistful look, let alone that she grabbed hold of his hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze. She said, "I think someone had nightmares after watching the _Twelve Disasters of Christmas_."

"But it wasn't like that."

"Schmidt, Jess is right. You need rest. We all need some decent sleep so that we can later mock you about your weird pansy-ass nightmares," Nick said.

Schmidt couldn't stop himself. He reached out and pulled his roommates against him in a group hug. He ignored their protestations, grateful for the absurd normality of the moment, and said, "I love you guys and I'm glad we weren't destroyed by space robots."

"We love you too, Schmidt," Jess said.

"Yeah, sure," Nick said.

"And if makes you feel better I had a dream that my Barbies joined up with Nick's GI Joes and tried to sacrifice us to the Mayan Gods."

"It's official. I live in a mad house," Winston replied. He patted Schmidt's back and said, "Maybe your dream is the sign of an existential life crisis and you should talk to Rabbi Shmooley about it."

"And look," Nick said, motioning to the clock in the kitchen, "We survived the apocalypse."

"Yay! We survived the..." Jess paused and clutched her chest melodramatically as she sang out, "... _five golden rings_...of doom!"

"Stop," Winston said.

"Yeah, no," Nick added.

Schmidt agreed with both of them, but he had more pressing thoughts on his mind than Jess's eccentricities. "It was still a good party though, right?"

"The best," Jess replied. 

Schmidt grinned. He knew that later Nick would blame him for any and everything that had transpired, but Schmidt knew that his "Mayans Rock Baby" roommate party had been a hit. He felt like shit, but it was worth it because his friends were there and everyone was okay and not covered in robot crap. 

"Please do me a favor and shower after you've slept this off," Nick said. 

"You don't have to tell me twice. I just bought a new loofa and it will feel like heaven on my skin."

"You're a freak, but you do know how to throw a good party," Nick replied.

Schmidt's grin grew even bigger. It was easy to get praise from Jess. She was a teacher and the type of person who liked making people feel good about themselves. That was the opposite of Nick and though he would never admit it, Schmidt had spent a long time trying to get Nick's approval.

"Thanks guys."

"And I think we've all learned a valuable lesson," Winston said.

"That Schmidt can't hold his alcohol?" Nick offered.

Winston replied, "Watching end of the world specials on the SyFy and History channels is always a very bad idea."

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't have finished this without my great beta help. Not only was I reassured that I didn't completely destroy great characters, but I was able to turn this into something respectable. Hopefully, it didn't disappoint and we can all learn something from Schmidt's broken psyche.


End file.
